


Waiting on the Moon to Fill

by dizzy



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-19
Updated: 2009-11-19
Packaged: 2017-10-03 10:01:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dizzy/pseuds/dizzy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Thank you, <a href="http://thraesja.livejournal.com/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://thraesja.livejournal.com/"><b>thraesja</b></a>, for beta reading!</p>
    </blockquote>





	Waiting on the Moon to Fill

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you, [](http://thraesja.livejournal.com/profile)[**thraesja**](http://thraesja.livejournal.com/), for beta reading!

It's been a long day and when Daniel offers to give her a ride home, Sam doesn't squander any time on meaningless hesitation before she accepts. She thinks she knows how the evening will go, but after four days spent alternating between running from the natives and bargaining for their lives when the running failed, maybe they both need this.

He follows her in wordlessly. She sifts through the mail piled on her front doorstep. Two packages, a thick padded envelope, and a handful of bills. She leaves them on the table just inside the doorway and turns to Daniel, but he's already on her. His hands frame her face and his mouth covers hers, kissing her like he needs it to breathe. Her arms hover awkwardly at her sides before she brings them up.

"Daniel." She tries to get his attention but he's not hearing it, not tonight. He crowds her against the wall and kisses her harder. She stops fighting it and melts against him, her hands undoing the buttons on his shirt. They both changed into civvies before leaving the base. He's not wearing anything under the button-up, so when it gapes open there's plenty of warm flesh to run her hands across. It feels decadent; they haven't done this in ages, haven't had the time or the energy or the level of desperation required to just give in without at least trying to put up token resistance. Sometimes, she thinks, their job really, really sucks. She tries to imagine living in a world where they could date and sleep together and be in love without having to worry about the possibility of causing the world to end around them - or because of them.

"Sam." He kisses her neck and runs his hands up underneath her shirt to snap her bra open.

He's too good at that, she thinks, and starts to kick off her shoes. She loses an inch or two with the heels gone but it's okay because it means she can run her foot up the back of his leg.

"We couldn't make them see," he says. She puts her arms around him and hugs him tight, because that's what he needs even more than sex. Sometimes she thinks that he's touch deprived. He's so good at seeming so open and no one realizes that he doesn't really let people close. Not close like this, hugging and kissing and petting. "We couldn't save them."

He doesn't let people in, but he lets her in and if she stops to linger too long thinking about that it will overwhelm her so she doesn't.

Instead, she guides his mouth back to hers and kisses him. "Come here," she says, and takes his hand and leads him back to her bedroom. She pushes at his shoulders until he sits on the edge of her bed and then she undresses. She moves slowly enough that (she hopes) she does it with some grace but quickly enough that it isn't a strip show. She's not that kind of girl, and she'd just look ridiculous if she tried to be.

Naked, she stands in front of him and slides his glasses off of his face. She puts them on the bedside table just beside the alarm clock and then returns to him. He reaches for her, wrapping his arms around her waist and pressing his face between her breasts. She pets the back of his head, scratching her fingers through his short hair. He's tense, so goddamn tense, and she wants to fix him. She's never felt like this about any man in her life before. She's never cared so much, so deeply, never wanted so badly to be the one with the power to make someone else's life all right.

His head turns and his mouth rubs against the curve of a breast. He looks up at her and his eyes are tired but still bright. His hands rub up to her shoulder blades and down to her ass, curving over the flesh and pulling her down to straddle his lap. He lowers them both until he's flat on his back, feet still touching the floor. His shirt falls open and her chest is bare against his. They kiss again, warm and wonderful, and she can feel his erection digging into her stomach. She shifts onto her side and he undoes his belt and pushes his pants down, remembering belatedly to toe off his shoes.

She helps him with his boxers until they're low enough for him to kick off and then runs her fingers over his cock. The look and feel of him sends surges of warmth through her and she's aware of the conscious desire to have him inside of her. She kisses the side of his jaw and feels the prickle of stubble against her mouth. "I want you," she says, her voice something low and secret, just between the two of them.

His hand slides up her thigh and two fingers rub against her labia. "You do," he agrees, pressing both fingers inward. Her breath hitches and she lifts one leg to open herself up more for him. "Can you, now? Or do you need..."

"I'm good," she says. No foreplay, not right now. They'll make up for it later, maybe in a few hours, if he wants to stay the night. But right now they just need that connection, the reminder that they made it through another mission. "Now.," she adds, and because she knows what it does to him: "Please."

He groans and rolls on top of her, settling between her thighs. He grips himself and rubs between her lips a few times, teasing at her and making her whimper. When he pushes inward it stings, just a little, but the feeling disappears as soon as he's buried inside of her. The look on his face is so perfect, so eager and full of a different kind of concentration than she's used to seeing, that it makes her clench against him.

He starts to go slow but she doesn't want that and she tells him so. His groan is pure relief as his hips pick up speed, fucking her just the way she needs it. She urges him on with words and fingernails on his back and quick, desperate kisses whenever his mouth is close enough to hers.

She pushes her face into his neck, loving the way he smells this close up. She can feel the hard play of muscle in his shoulder and the heat that flushes his skin. "Daniel," she says, needing to touch herself but sensing how close he is. She lets him go first. Her teeth sink into the tendon in his neck just hard enough for him to grunt and she rocks her hips up to meet his, clenching around him just when he's in as far as he can go.

"Sam," he gasps and his eyes go all squinty like they get when he doesn't have his glasses on and his mouth falls open. He underestimates how close he is and pulls back out and the first shot of come hits her thigh. He sinks back in and stays there, slamming his hips into hers just hard enough that it actually hurts but she likes the way it feels.

He rolls off of her and spends about five seconds catching his breath before he puts a hand on her stomach and slides it downward, cupping her. He's on his side with his head resting on her shoulder, looking down. He fucks her with three fingers and uses his thumb on her clit, smearing his come and her own wetness everywhere. She bucks against him, whining and twitching until it hits her. She squeezes her thighs around his hand and rides out the aftershocks, her fingers clenching on the back of his neck.

He keeps his hand there for a few minutes, playing with his fingers on her skin just to see how many different ways he can make her shiver. Finally he pulls out, his hand a sticky mess. He disappears into the bathroom and she hears the water running. He comes back with a damp cloth and runs it over her skin, kissing her softly - short, closed mouth kisses that leave her wanting more - while he does so.

"Stay?" she asks, standing up to strip off the bedspread. The moisture hasn't gone beyond the first layer of cloth, thankfully. It's a warm night and she doesn't think he'll mind just sleeping under the sheets.

"Yeah." He yawns. It's not quite eight yet but their sleep schedules are out of whack, and they both need the rest. She turns on her side, because that's the only way she can sleep, and smiles when he fits his body against hers. "This good?"

"Mhm." She sighs and finds his hand with hers, giving it a little squeeze. "'Night, Daniel."

He kisses the back of her neck. "Goodnight, Sam."

**Author's Note:**

> _ Ev'rybody's waiting for the sun to shine  
> Waiting on a springtime day  
> Waiting on tomorrow to unwrap their minds  
> Waiting till the sky's not grey_


End file.
